The sun is shining, the birds are singing and my fucking pig just charged someone's ankles on command.

What a world we do live in.

I expected there to be things missing (you can keep the gravy boat but I WANT MY FUCKING LAMPSHADE BACK). I expected a mess (it's a fucking sty most of the time anyway). I did not expect to wake up, slightly hungover from exorbitant amounts of pilfered liquor from Potter, and FIND THIS.

( DUNG! )

Work is dull, as per usual, but it’s especially dull after a weekend full of drunken carousing. Unfortunately, none of my esteemed customers are content to let me wallow in these doldrums properly. They all insist on loitering around the counter and boring me with Quidditch talk. I now loathe Quidditch fans even more, which I honestly didn’t think ( Read more... )

What the hell rum and zucchini bread actually do make a good pair sort of dribbly but inherently

mm.

These journals are so much better while intoxicated. LIKE MOST THINGS.

I have just been to the bookshop. This is a very good thing. Actually, it's bad, because I haven't the money to be buying hardbacks and memoires but they're much more exciting than bread and milk (oh sod it, firewhiskey and nectarines, I'm not that wholesome). Besides, I'm sure when I'm old and crusty I'll be glad that I nourished my mind rather ( Read more... )

Let's raise the general IQ of these books, yeah?

Eight across -- "a Sworne Booke, per se". The last letter is e.

Interesting weather lately. With all the clouds and such. Cumuli, cirri, etc.

... Yeah.

Right, so. I'm now officially adding "my parents drunk" to the list of things that I would Never Like To See Again, Ever. Especially when they ended up getting completely shitefaced on, of all things, prissy brand-name chocolate liqueur. Who even does that, besides randy Sixth Year girls who fancy themselves foxy and cultured? No one, that's who, ( Read more... )